


long as there are stars above you.

by summersocietyy



Series: vienna. [4]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Drug Use, F/M, Fluff, but i didn't use any names except his, listen this is spencer/oc, so i guess it could be read as spencer/reader??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25964734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summersocietyy/pseuds/summersocietyy
Summary: “What are you doing?” She whispers. He avoids her gaze, keeps his eyes anywhere but on her. She is not here.“What does it matter?” He mumbles, surprised at how hoarse he is.“Spencer.” She breathes, and when she reaches out to touch his hand, he jerks away and ignores the hurt in her eyes. She is not here.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader
Series: vienna. [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727104
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	long as there are stars above you.

**Author's Note:**

> this one was inspired by michael buble's cover of god only knows by the beach boys and GOD i love that song

_God only knows what I’d be without you. - Musician Brian Wilson_

_May 10, 2007_

_Oh, Spencer_.

Her voice breezes past his ear - not for the first time - and he jerks upwards, his head swimming. She is crouched in front of him, her green eyes impossibly sad and tender, and when she reaches out to touch his cheek, her fingers are soft and warm and he can almost allow himself to believe that she is here with him. He pushes her hand away, watches as she sinks to sit opposite him on the cold tile floor of his bathroom. 

“What are you doing?” She whispers. He avoids her gaze, keeps his eyes anywhere but on her. She is not here.

“What does it matter?” He mumbles, surprised at how hoarse he is. 

“Spencer.” She breathes, and when she reaches out to touch his hand, he jerks away and ignores the hurt in her eyes. She is not here. 

He won’t look at her, his eyes roaming the bathroom instead before they settle on the little vial two feet away. She follows his gaze and leans over, scooping up the bottle. “Dilaudid? Spencer, this isn’t you.”

“How would you know? You’re not here.” He spits, his tone laced with venom, and he knows that that isn’t fair - it’s not by choice that she’s not here. She would be if she could, he knows that. But knowing that doesn’t make the hurt stop. It doesn’t make the neverending dull ache in his chest go away. It doesn’t fill the cavity where she should be. _She is not here._

“I will be.” She promises him softly. He presses his lips together, willing the tears he can feel building behind his eyes to go away. “I need you to be patient.”

He swallows thickly, his eyes on the floor. She reaches out, touches his knee gently. His entire body stiffens and he watches her little fingers settle against his slacks. He looks up, finally meeting her eyes, and she smiles at him gently. And in that moment, he’s not sure if he hates her or himself.

Or perhaps it’s the universe that he hates. 

Yes, he decides, it’s the universe that he hates.

He hates the universe for dealing him the horrible hand that it did. He hates the universe for allowing him to be tormented for so long. For making his mother suffer the way she does. For taking _her_ away from him. Very suddenly, the Dilaudid isn’t doing its job anymore, because he is not numb anymore. Everything hurts and it is too much and he is _angry_. 

He stands quickly, ignoring the rush to his head and the roaring in his ears. She is still sitting on the floor, watching him with sad eyes, and he wants her to be mad at him. He wants her to yell at him and hate him and tell him she is disappointed in him, and instead she is watching him with sad, tender eyes, and it makes his skin crawl because _he does not deserve that_.

He turns, swiping everything on his bathroom counter onto the floor. His toothbrush cup shatters, shards of ceramic sliding under the tub, never to be seen again. The soap bottle bounces along the tiles, settling where she sat only moments ago, and when he realizes that she has disappeared, he sinks to the floor again, leaning against the cabinet and pressing his hands to his face.

When he looks up again, she is perched on the edge of the tub, watching him with shining eyes. She slides down to kneel before him, reaching up to cup his cheeks. 

“Please be patient, Buttercup.” She whispers, her thumbs brushing under his eyes gently. “I’ll be here. I’ll be home. I just need you to hold ong a little longer.”

“I don’t think I can.” He breathes. “I don’t know how to do this without you.”

“You’ve been doing it without me for so long now, my love.” She tells him, leaning closer. Her forehead bumps against his and he closes his eyes. “But I’ll tell you a secret; there’s no without. I’m not gone. We’ll find each other again. I promise.”

He feels the phantom pressure of a kiss on his forehead, and when he opens his eyes again, she is gone, and he is alone.

****

_August 17, 2011_

Spencer, losing interest in his book, lolls his head to one side, his eyes following the sound of rapid clicking across the living room. _She_ is perched in the armchair beside the window, her fingers flying across the keyboard of her laptop as she writes an essay for some class. Her hair is twisted into a bun, a few locks hanging out haphazardly and framing her face delicately. She chews at her lower lip absently, and he admires the way the fading afternoon sun catches on her hair, the way her green eyes flit across it as she reads through what she’s written so far.

Sensing his eyes on her, she peeks over the top of her computer and squints at him, then sticks her tongue out. He laughs softly.

“Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” She asks. He hums and shrugs, marking the page in his book and setting it on the coffee table. She rolls her eyes, but there’s a small, fond smile on her lips as she types a few more words and closes her computer. She sets it on the table beside her chair, then hops up and scurries across the living room. He opens his arms, huffing out a quiet laugh when she falls against him. He settles his arms around her and she burrows into him for a moment before lifting her head. He tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. 

“Hey.” He murmurs. She hums in response. “I love you.”

Her smile lights up the entire room. It makes her eyes sparkle and her nose crinkle and when she leans down to kiss him tenderly, he feels as though the weight of the world is lifting off his shoulders.

“I love you, too.” She whispers back, then leans down to kiss him again. He flips them gently, grinning against her lips when she laughs into his mouth and wraps her arms around his neck. His hands begin to roam, slipping under her shirt, and he leans back, smiling at the delighted giggle she lets out when his fingers ghost over her ribs.

He takes in all that she is for a moment; honey-gold hair, bright green eyes, freckles everywhere. Most importantly, she is his. 

Most importantly, she is _here_.

_I loved you completely. And you loved me the same. That’s all. The rest is confetti. - Author Shirley Jackson_


End file.
